I had pigs, dead, killed, in clothing, arise from a bog to lay in a heap in my living room watching me with ghostpig eyes. They began wafting away and I thanked them for coming, closing the door behind them. CLARK WILL BE HOME SOON, SO BYEBYE NOW. They hadn't known I was alone and thought they would come back in with a new sinister-er look but I shut the door firmly. This I dream in black and white.
Then my brother and I were escaping from an evil kingdom by way of mist in hilly fields and fairy encampments on watery shores. This I dream in color.
But these were the pigs from my brothers wedding and the dreams were merely a coincidence.
The dreampigs were very creepy and didnt look anything like they were spit-roasted.
a pig in the hand
- ► 2010 (25)
- ► 2009 (20)
- ► 2008 (43)
- ► 2007 (88)
- ► 2006 (98)
- ▼ July (12)
- ► 2004 (239)